Page 26 of Excess

“I’ll wait here.”

“Are you sure you’re allowed to park here?”

“I’ll wait right here,” Lúcás repeated stubbornly. Oh well, I could always pay the fine if need be.

Fortunately—considering how long the corridor was with small crowds of parents waiting outside the various classrooms—Blake was waiting near the front, and immediately approached once I pulled open the double doors.

“Hey.” He flexed his hands at his sides like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. It was oddly adorable.

“Hi.” I pulled the worn leather wallet out of my purse, handing it to him. “One wallet, as promised.”

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to come out here.” He pocketed the wallet, rocking back on his heels.

“It was no trouble.” I was omega-smiling again, trying to put him at ease. Usually, I resisted the urge, but this alpha needed a little soothing, though I didn’t go so far as to actually touch him. I doubted he’d appreciate that, surrounded by all these people. “How’s the ballet class going?”

“Do you want to see?” Blake blurted out, looking relieved at having a concrete task to latch on to. He was usually so smooth—or at least so in control. This was the first time I’d seen him out of his element. “Freya is just in here.”

He led me over to the first door on the left, where the little ballerinas were visible through a windowpane, avidly watching as their teacher gave them an instruction.

“My niece is the one freestyling in the corner,” he said drily, and I muffled my laugh behind my hand.

She was the one little ballerina who wasn’t paying attention. Freya’s dark brown curls had escaped her bun, forming a halo around her face, and I was pretty sure her sheer pink dance skirt was on backwards. She looked like she was having the time of her life, boogying away in the corner to the beat of her own drum.

“I’m pretty sure she goes to ballet just for the full-length mirrors,” Blake muttered, though there was an affectionate edge to it.

“That’s what I enjoyed most about it,” I admitted, both of us moving to the side so a parent could peer through the window. “Well, that, and the costumes we got to wear for the shows.”

“You did ballet too?”

“I think every omega gets put in ballet lessons, at least for a little while.”

Blake grunted. “Freya is an omega. She’s been dancing since she was two.”

“That’s so great that you bring her along. I doubt any of my uncles even knew I did ballet.” I gave him another omega-approved smile, trying to come up with a polite way to excuse myself before the moment grew awkward. But before I could, the doors to the classrooms flew open and little dancers streamed out, filling the corridor with noise.

Freya seemed to materialise out of nowhere, popping up at Blake’s side and staring up at me with solemn brown eyes.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice calm and steady—almost unnaturally so for a child, but maybe they were all like that? I didn’t spend a great deal of time around them.

“My name is Inika. And you’re Freya, right? Your uncle was telling me about you.” I crouched down slightly so I could hear her properly in the loud hallway. “How old are you?”

“Five. Did you see me dancing?”

“I did. You danced beautifully.”

Her mouth twitched in an almost smile. “Do you like ballet?”

“I love ballet.” Well, I loved watching it. I’d been no ballerina myself. “I danced for years.”

She narrowed her eyes as though she was assessing me, before nodding her head once, having come to some sort of decision. “Uncle Blake always takes me out for tea and cake after ballet. Do you want to come with us?”

Ah.

Blake’s eyes went wide with panic, and I stuttered, trying to come up with a plausible excuse that wouldn’t hurt the sweet girl’s feelings.

“It’s just around the corner,” Freya said confidently, grabbing my hand and tugging me down the corridor. “Do you like cake?”

“Of course,” I replied faintly, shooting Blake an apologetic look over my shoulder.

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